Friday, January 27, 2017

Ash Meets Holly

Occasionally I wake up with bits of scenes in my head with regard to stories I'm contemplating. Today was like that, so here's an excertp:

Before Rand Ash called for another drink — an ale this time to save his precious coin, the real entertainment of the evening strode in and ordered the best liquor in the place.

People moved away from this guy, too. More due to his attitude than his height. Unlike Rand, what muscles the man had were sleek, formed over a strong, lean build.

Rand stared, like every other person in the tavern, at the man with gray eyes and white-silver-blond hair, dressed in materials so expensive that the amount he’d paid for his threads would clothe everyone in the place for a decade. Most people saw a noble or two now and then, and knew of noble fashion, and this was the latest.

T’Ash reflected on the books he’d read, the one he’d escaped with when he’d run away from the fiery inferno his home had become to the streets of Downwind, his most prized possession since he was six years old. He thought of the lessons and old noblewoman had given him about the great nobles, the FirstFamilies. He frowned as early gossamer memories wisped through his mind. And he examined the guy, the man’s aquiline features, noble features.

Yeah, he nodded, he could guess who this guy was. Especially since the man looked flushed and nervy and T’Ash sensed fluctuations of great Flair from him. That meant the nobleman suffered through Passage, the dreamquests to free the psi power of Flair. Except the fighting Family of the Hollys didn’t. Didn’t stay home and suffer through Passage. They went out prowling, looking for challenges. Fought deathduels.

Yeah, Rand could guess the man’s name and pedigree. Holm Holly, heir to GreatLord T’Holly himself. Holm HollyHeir as he’d be styled.